His eyes were closed, he waited for the right moment to take his first breath. To finally let go. When the heat of the flame touched his skin, he gasped for air. To be awakened in the catacombs with the torches already lit. The place was waiting for his return, it welcomed the reptile the only way it could. Warmth.
Jackson stood up to face a maze of turns, entries, dead ends, misdirections, and more. A dangerous place for the uninitiated, it was designed that way to finish off anyone who survived the ocean. It held no monster, no threat that Jackson would have to deal with. The only danger catacombs' posed to anyone who entered was time, it had no water or food. Only the cold clock of time that ticked away.
The reptile knew otherwise, he pulled out a flare, blue flames spewed when he ignited it. He chucked the magical flare a few metres in front of him to see where the smoke trailed off too. There was no wind in the catacombs, but if there was one thing the reptile knew, it was the catacombs would desire to have others leave. It would guide any who entered the best it can.
He followed the trail, only stopping to throw a new flare once the previous one died out, or the trail hit a dead end. The rest would in the end come down to luck because he only had so much on hand. Most of his equipment was taken away from him by the damned souls of the dark ocean.
As he continued the journey through the labyrinth, he stepped over a few remains of people who were trapped. Their souls claimed by the Black Cathedral for trying to escape. Jackson pitied them, for there was no chance for anyone to survive without knowing what they were dealing with. Some remains reminded him of adventurers, corpses of the Order’s finest slayers trying to stop the creature, or people of faith wanting to enter a place of worship. All victims, all died the same way. Trapped in a world that waited for their timely demise.
‘Hey, how are you doing?’
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Jackson turned around to face a young woman, her long golden blond hair trailed down her back, she wore a chiton of white and blue. She smiled at the reptile as if they were pleased to meet them again. ‘I missed you, Prauros.’ She said, raising her arms to gesture for Jackson to come hug her.
The reptile frowned and turned away; he knew the trick the catacombs were playing. The catacombs wanted to comfort him, but that comfort would often lead to death. He was only grateful that the Black Cathedral was unable to read their mind anymore or know others that the reptile held dear to him.
She cried out to him, shouting his old name which he abandoned long ago. Soon, more people appeared around corners to welcome Jackson. Men, women, and children all smiled at his presence. They all spoke his dead names, some wanted to embrace him, only to be bitterly rejected.
He knew them all, how he missed them. The reptile wished they were real, so he could tell them all goodbye one more time. All were different, some were painters, lovers, soldiers, friends, explorers, allies, hunters, and family. One had hair of snakes, the other had a beard that had trails of smoke. All unique, all of them he loved equally. How he wanted to embrace them one more time, to tell them how he felt about their absence. But it was a lie, a cruel lie to lure him and make him give up on his quest, to trap him in the catacombs. So, he kept moving, refusing to look at the faces of the people he failed, abandoned, or outlived.
The reptile threw his last flare, to follow what could be his last hope. More appeared, they gave him hopeful smiles while they begged him to stay with them for one hour. What pained the reptile was how they mentioned they missed his smile. Little did the imitators know, it wasn’t the only tragedy that he lost.
With luck, he eventually found the door. The one that would lead him to the heart of the Black Cathedral. Once he finished, he could allow himself to rest when it was finally over. Even if victory was temporary.